New Horizons
by Dipenates
Summary: In which Justin leaves rehab, and the family struggles to deal as something disturbing comes to light. WARNING: Mentions of rape / sexual abuse.
1. In which Justin leaves rehab

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

******************************************

**Chapter One**

_In which Justin leaves rehab  
_

They were hard, those group sessions at the rehab centre. The group room, with its thrashed overstuffed chairs and bright walls, always seemed chilly after you had spilled your guts, despite the California sun shining through the picture windows.

During Justin's stay at New Horizons, his group remained pretty stable. The first guy he met was Kent, an alcoholic high-school quarterback who eventually came out to his rabidly fundamentalist family. Kevin was the Walker who was sitting in family group beside Justin when that happened; silently cheering Kent on, even as Kent's mother sobbed and clutched the worn Bible she always brought with her and Kent's father stared at him like he had never seen him before.

David, the vicodin-addicted 22 year old who had his dreams of being an actor shattered on a weekly basis by an indifferent TV industry, was the person that Justin most connected with. He and John, a student at UCLA who slipped from weed to coke to crack like a made-for-TV movie sob story, were the only other guys in the group.

The girls were something else. Katie and Mel and JK were single-handedly responsible for making Justin realise that families could have a heart of darkness without anyone being the wiser. He had always intellectually known that some fathers and uncles and brothers were sick fucks. He just didn't realise that when he was lying in bed listening out for William's foot on the stairs, his biggest fear of being caught playing Nintendo after lights out was a million miles away from what a creaking floorboard outside the door signified for so many other kids.

Justin found it incredibly painful to relate the experience of seeing his brothers-in-arms explode like so many cheap horror extras. Sometimes it felt like he was pushing the words out of his dry throat past a chest that was on fire. He spent a lot of time in his first group panicking; gasping for breath and unable to control the images of death and destruction flashing before my eyes. Like he was just now.

"It's OK, Justin", said Dr. Holden, recognising his increasing anxiety. "Just breathe."

He shot her a wry look. What the fuck did she think he was doing? He put his head between his knees, trying desperately to fight off the wave of dizzy nausea that swept over him.

"Does anyone have anything they would like to say to Justin?"

This group conversation thing was a major part of the sessions. Justin personally found it hard to find words to address other people's shit. Like, what did he know about their situation?

"Um, yeah", said David tentatively. "I don't really get what you went through, bro. I just want to say that I think you're a total hero and I think it's weak that they want you to go back to that fucking shithole."

Nice. David's words made him feel both better and worse. He didn't feel like a hero, so much as a dude who couldn't hold it together when his unit needed him. He felt like someone who was turning his back on his buddies and on his country.

Justin also struggled to cope with everyone else thinking that their personal reasons for being there weren't as _meaningful _as his, just because his buddies ended up splattered over Iraqi dirt-track in front of his eyes. Because his trauma was part of some national narrative of grief and pain. Because his trauma earned approving looks and muttered thanks from some of the family visitors to the group, before Dr. Holden could set them straight.

"Thanks, dude", he mumbled. David patted Justin on the back, awkwardly and a bit too hard. Neither of them was entirely comfortable with the process that sometimes ended up with them sobbing and gasping, tears running down their faces.

"Who's next?" said Dr. Holden. She scanned the small circle. Those who hadn't spoken yet leaned back in their seats.

There wasn't time for the entire group to talk each session, and they were supposed to be proactive about trying to get time to unload. They were supposed to want to face their demons, and heal, and all that good shit. In reality, talking in group was a little bit like having your skin pulled off and Justin couldn't blame any of the girls who were currently ducking their heads and folding their arms in front of themselves as an inadequate protection against Dr. Holden's request.

He studied the bits of Katie, Mel and JK's faces that he could see. They wore similar expressions, a blend of tense and blank. Dissociation, Dr. Holden called it, and explained to them that a lot of abuse survivors used it as a mechanism for coping with what they were experiencing. They pulled hardcore versions of those faces when each other was speaking in any detail about their experiences, as if by blocking out what each other was saying they could pretend that they hadn't been raped or molested either.

Katie started speaking. About her uncle, and what he'd done to her and her sister. JK zoned out immediately, but Mel seemed to be listening.

Justin caught Kent's eye. He pulled a grim face. They had talked before about how hard they found the girls' shit to listen to, and how they felt weirdly guilty by association for being guys when Katie, JK and Mel had been hurt in such a male way. Justin could understand it, but he also hated the way they seemed to collapse in on themselves, how ashamed they seemed to feel by the sick shit that someone had done to them.

"And so", said Katie, interrupting his thoughts. "It's like the alcohol gives me access to all of these feelings that otherwise aren't there. I mean, I just feel numb and kind of blank and nauseated deep down a lot of the time but if I'm drunk then I can cry and it feels like a pressure valve releasing."

"And what happens if you don't drink, Katie?" asked Dr. Holden.

"It's hard to explain." Katie took a breath, thinking. "The pressure slowly builds up, but it's hard to notice it. Then, sometimes, I explode but I can't really figure out why I'm exploding. I mean, I know I should be angry but somehow it doesn't come out right. I feel more angry with myself than anything else."

"It's not your fault, Katie". Kent didn't wait for Dr. Holden to solicit comments, he just jumped in. There was a beat of silence.

"Yeah, thanks Robin Williams!" Katie was more entertained than consoled. Justin raised his eyebrows at Kent, who rolled his eyes as Mel giggled.

Mel's giggles were infectious, and they were alll laughing as Dr. Holden formally ended the group.

Katie was walking next to Justin as they emerged, blinking, into the afternoon sunlight.

"I'm sorry about that wisecrack", she said. "I totally appreciate that Kent was being nice, and the thought was really kind. Do you think he's mad at me?"

She smiled at him, and Justin thought for the five millionth time that she was a total babe. She had shiny brown hair and a smile that Senator MacAllister would have envied. It was hard to tell what her body was like, though, because she always wore thick sweatshirts and jeans, no matter how warm the Santa Ana winds got.

"Nah", he said and reached out his hand to pat her arm. She flinched away, and then froze like a kid playing statutes. Fuck.

She flushed hot, bright red. "I'm sorry," she said. "I swear to God that I know you're a good guy, but after group things are a little raw." She looked at her sneakers and poked the lawn with the toe of her Skecher.

"It's OK", Justin said. "I know what you mean. Sometimes after group I can't even bear the sound of a door slamming." He shook his head. "Reminds me too much of an IDE exploding."

She nodded, looking into the middle distance. She got it.


	2. In which Kitty is bitchy

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

******************************************

**Chapter Two**

_In which Kitty is a bitch and Nora and Sarah are appalled _

"Oh, please", said Kitty. "Justin, you were in a _war_. You served your _country _and paid an expensive price for that service. You aren't complaining because you had a little sex you didn't like. You aren't coming over all Andrea Dworkin about a boy coming on a little strong. These girls in your group _thing_ are making women seem like tiny, frightened little puppies. What's wrong with just a tiny little bit of personal responsibility?"

Justin looked at Kitty as if he had never seen her before. She was standing, eyebrows raised, hand on hip. He took a breath. Tried to find some Dr. Holden-ish words.

"Kitty, I'm really glad that you came to my last family group with me".

"Thanks, Justin. I just think that you would maybe have got more out of this whole process if the other people in your group had been more like you, and not been these little whinybabies trying to blame everything on other people. In fact…"

"Kitty!" She looked up from where she was digging in her purse for her sunglasses.

"Kitty", he lowered his voice to something approximating his normal speaking tone. "I don't really know who Andrea Dworkin is but I do know that what I got _out _of this whole process was clean, and that none of the people who achieved the same thing have been anything less than just as courageous as I have been."

He climbed into the car, and slammed the door. Kitty paused, and then, sunglasses on, got into the driver's seat, started the car and pulled out of the carpark.

Justin was suddenly scared that he couldn't do this; couldn't deal with the real world. He had never felt more real than at New Horizons, even though it hurt like a fucker at times.

Kitty had always looked out for him, but always let him make his own choices and it was weird that she was being so critical of the rest of the people who had supported him through recovery.

Justin only realised that an uncomfortable silence had stretched out between them when the car pulled into the driveway, and Kitty jerked the gearstick into park.

Justin and Kitty still hadn't really talked by the time dinner was served. The Walkers were all sitting in their usual places around the gleaming table, eating the second of four courses of a Nora special, when Kitty started in on the girls from group again.

"I was so proud of Justin today, Mom", Kitty said. "It was just such a shame that his last family group was full of these overwrought stories of men who done wrong. It was like being at a really melodramatic take-back-the-night rally."

Sarah sat up very straight, across the table, and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really?" she said. If Kitty had been less absorbed in her point she would have noticed the warning tone in Sarah's voice.

"Well, sure," Kitty flapped one hand, as if to indicate that her point was perfectly obvious.

"It was like Naomi Wolfe said in that book about this whole _date rape _phenomenon". Kitty's voice was scornful. "All of these women are just completely determined to be victims of something. I mean, we've all had bad sex. This whole need to blame other people and make some giant, _hysterical _deal out of it is just a symptom of this modern refusal to be accountable for your own actions."

"Don't be so goddamn naïve, Kitty." Sarah's voice was harsh, and the rest of the family started to look between Justin, Kitty and Sarah like they were watching a tennis match.

"I know that having a bit of sisterly solidarity is frowned upon by Phyllis Schlafly and the rest of those Concerned Women of America witches, but I thought it would have been self-evident to even a self-regarding, moral majority Republican like yourself that violence against women isn't some fantasy construct of crazed feminazis." Sarah took a gulp of her wine, and shot Kitty a look that made her choke off her response.

There was a tense silence around the table. Tommy looked into the middle-distance, clearly not wanting to be in that room having that discussion. Justin was majorly touched by him being there at all. Tommy, of all the Walker siblings, struggled most with the concept that his youngest brother couldn't kick drugs by sheer willpower alone. Kevin's head was down, staring at his still-full plate like he was trying to laser-beam the pattern from it with his eyes. Kitty was defiant, face flushed and the shine of angry tears in her eyes.

"Kitty, could you help me bring in the dessert?" Nora got to her feet, and gestured with her eyebrows that Kitty should follow her into the kitchen.

Kitty shoved her chair backwards, and followed Nora into the kitchen. Her back was rigid with irritation. Justin knew that the family conclave would have determined that he be allowed to chill out on his first night home from rehab, and could only imagine how much Kitty was going to get it from Nora.

"I don't get what's going on here," Justin said. He looked around at his brothers and Sarah.

Sarah shook her head and took another swig of her wine.

"It's nothing to do with you or group, Justin." She sighed and propped her head up on her hands, elbows on the table.

"It's this long-running, deeply tedious argument that Kitty and I have been having for years. For some reason, she really took exception to me getting involved in this women's group at Wharton which organised a take back the night rally."

Justin nodded. Kevin sagged against his chair. He looked exhausted, and Justin realised that he had hardly asked him about the big case he was working on after he had mentioned it the first time up at New Horizons.

"I don't really get what her problem is apart from the fact that, fundamentally, the Republican Party just hates women", said Sarah.

"And gays", added Kevin.

"And, you know, disabled people and black people and atheists." Tommy rejoined the conversation, cracking his knuckles.

"And the idea of women having any reproductive rights". Mom was back in the room with dessert, but without Kitty. Sarah raised her eyebrows at Mom, and Mom slightly shook her head. Sarah looked down at her plate, biting her lip.

"Baked cheesecake, Mom?" Justin could hear how brittle his voice sounded, and hoped that no one else could. "Awesome to be home and have your cooking against after those New Horizons rations."


	3. In which Tommy and Kevin talk

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

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**Chapter Three**

_In which Kevin and Tommy talk about rehab _

Kevin stood in the doorway to the patio, hands in pockets, and surveyed his older brother. Tommy had been quiet through dessert and was now sitting alone outside on the terrace, smoking a cigar.

"Is Mom still upstairs with Kitty?", Tommy asked, leaning back in his patio chair, and blowing smoke towards the inky sky.

"Yeah. I think Mom's reading the riot act about how this was supposed to be a tension-free evening for Justin's sake. Sarah's taken the kids home. Clearly this being us we couldn't just have a straightforward dinner."

Tommy shrugged, focused on tapping ash of his cigar without sprinkling it on the patio table.

"I think Sarah's point was fine and all", said Kevin, warming to his theme, "but couldn't she have left the college activism alone for one evening? We all know that Kitty is an uber-fascist. Do we have to go seven rounds on the issue of the week every time we get together?"

Tommy was silent, looking towards the dark pool. Kevin sat down in the chair opposite him.

"You okay, man?" Kevin sounded concerned. "Are you worried the rehab didn't take? That Justin hasn't pulled himself together?"

Tommy cleared his throat. "I was thinking about an old girlfriend. Clare."

"I don't think I ever met her", Kevin said. He frowned, trying to place the name.

"We went out for a couple of months in high school." Tommy paused. "She was a transfer from another school sophomore year and she was smokin' hot."

There was a noise on the other side of the patio doors. Tommy looked at the doors, fearfully, and lowered his voice.

"This one afternoon I was at her house and we were getting down to it on the sofa in her basement. She was kind of unresponsive and I looked at her face to see if she would let me go the whole nine yards and she was, fuck, _crying_."

"Fuck, Tommy!" Kevin's face was screwed up with concern, but Tommy could see fear and disgust in his expression as well.

"I didn't fucking hurt her!", said Tommy. "I got off her so fast it was like her father just walked in the room. I tried to calm her down but she wouldn't talk to me and in the end I just left."

"Why was she crying?" asked Kevin. He was sitting straight up now, scanning Tommy's face for a clue as to how to respond to his taciturn brother's unexpected confidence.

"Fucked if I know," said Tommy. He looked away from Kevin's gaze. "I was a stupid kid. I tried to speak to her at school, but she never really spoke to me again. This asshole Brent Wallace went out with her for a bit, but he said she was frigid and she didn't date much after that. Heaven forbid that Brent should have gone without pussy for five freaking minutes."

He took a deep shuddering breath. Kevin leaned across the table and patted his arm.

"The thing is", Tommy said, "that after going to Justin's group I think I know what her issue was. I think some guy hurt her. One of those girls at New Horizons was talking about how hard it was to do it with guys she was into."

"Yeah," said Kevin. "Sensitively put, Tommy, but I know what you mean."

He looked at Tommy thoughtfully.

"Don't you feel guilty about this, man", he said. "I mean, I'm sorry that something happened to Clare, but you did all you could with the information you had. Sophomore guys are not Oprah Winfrey, and Clare wouldn't talk to you."

Tommy nodded; consoled, if not reassured.

Kevin paused, reflecting. "I think that going to Justin's group has opened my eyes to a whole raft of things that I would never have thought about."

"That's nice, dear". Nora stepped through the patio doors, and ostentatiously waved away the smoke from Tommy's cigar. Tommy and Kevin turned their heads towards Nora, the serious mood precipitated by their conversation broken.

"Kevin, would you mind running upstairs and fetching down that box of fabric samples from Kitty's wardrobe? It's too heavy for either of us and I wanted to discuss that chintz with you?"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Sure, Mom. I live for no greater purpose than to queer-eye your potential habadashery purchases".


	4. In which Kitty and Kevin fight

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

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**Chapter Four**

_In which Kitty and Kevin have a frank exchange of views _

Kevin knocked on Kitty's bedroom door, and swung it open. Kitty was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at her unpainted nails; seemingly lost in thought. Kevin was struck by how tiny she was; how much she looked like a little girl perched on her mother's bed.

Kevin cleared his throat. "Kitty, Mom wanted me to get a box of fabric from your wardrobe?"

"Sure," Kitty said, looking up. "No problem, it's just in the top there."

Kevin didn't move. He was struck by how lonely Kitty looked; how fragile.

"Don't worry," Kitty said, rolling her eyes and standing up. "My wardrobe is completely clear of bras and tampons. And Republican ectoplasm."

"That's not it, Kitty." Kevin sat down on her bed and motioned for her to join him. She sat down on the white coverlet.

Kevin paused, not really sure what he wanted to say. "I get that you are a wannabee Eagle Forum member, but it is truly essential for you to channel Ann Coulter when it's just going to be a red rag to Sarah's Gloria Steinem?" His tone was gentle.

Kitty scuffed her heel on the area rug that her bed sat on. "I just don't understand why Sarah wants us all to be victims." She paused. "I have a great job, a great relationship, a great family. I achieved things by myself. I don't need Sarah telling me that I'm being oppressed by some patriarchal monster."

Kevin laughed, relieved. "Kitty, Sarah's not talking about _you_. She's talking about _other _women who have had bad stuff happen to them."

Guilty in anticipation of repeating something Tommy probably didn't want him to share, Kevin lowered his voice.

"Tommy was just telling me about this girl he saw in high school who was probably abused in some way and how she wouldn't talk to Tommy and then that asshole Brent Wallace made fun of her and how probably Sarah's take back the whatever might have helped her."

"Brent Wallace?" Kitty's face was frozen.

"Yeah, that uber-hetero on the football team; who had all those Playboy magazines taped up in his locker", Kevin said. "Probably a total closet case."

"He wasn't," said Kitty, her voice distant. "I had a really bad date with him, and can attest to his rampant heterosexuality."

"A bad date?" said Kevin. Kitty looked away from him, biting her lip. Kevin felt his stomach start to tighten with fear.

"I met him at some homecoming event when I was 18. We had a few beers and a couple of drags on a joint his friends had. Maybe he thought I would be a bit more into sleeping with him because I was a grown up college woman and he was a high-school boy, but I really wasn't. I tried to push him off me but he was stronger than I was, and had at least a hundred pounds on me."

Kevin closed his eyes, trying to keep the wave of anger he felt from showing on his face. Kitty fiddled with the hem of her dress. She took a deep breath.

"I was really annoyed that weekend, because I had planned to wear this _great_ silvery mini dress with spaghetti straps and I couldn't because I had bruises on my legs."

Her voice hitched. "That was a beautiful dress, and I never wore it."

Kevin reached for Kitty, wrapping her in his arms. Kitty leaned her head against his blue cashmere sweater, eyes wide. Kevin stroked her back as though she were made of spun glass.

"Kitty, honey," Kevin said, in a tone of such exquisite gentleness that Kitty's eyes started to fill. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

They sat in silence for a moment; Kevin searching for some words of comfort, mind reeling. "I'm really glad you were able to tell me, although I'm sorry you felt you couldn't at the time. Still, I'm sure it was easier to discuss with Mom and Sarah and miracle-of-miracles they kept their yaps shut."

Kitty jerked out of his arms.

"What do you mean, Kevin?" She brushed the tears away, and regarded Kevin crossly. "It was just a bad date; there's no need to blow it out of all proportion. As it happens, I didn't mention it to anyone."

"Kit?" Kevin said gently. "Brent Wallace raped you."

Kitty's rage was immediate and terrifying. She jumped to her feet and pointed to the door.

"Get the fuck out of here, Kevin," she hissed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Kevin blanched. He got to his feet, and stretched his hand out towards Kitty's shaking body. She took a pace backwards.

"Kitty, I'm sorrier than you can imagine that you're so upset, but it wasn't just a bad date."

"Just because you're gay doesn't give some special insight into being a woman, Kevin," Kitty bit out his name, arms wrapped around herself. "I'm pretty sure that I can define my own life experiences, and for the last fucking time, I wasn't fucking_ raped_."


	5. In which Kevin and Sarah eat affogato

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

******************************************

**Chapter Five **

_In which Kevin and Sarah talk and eat affogato _

Kevin watched Sarah speak to the hostess and then turn her head to follow the hostess's finger, which was pointed in his direction. He had spent the time since this morning's phone call, in which Sarah had reluctantly agreed to leave Ojai in the middle of the day to have lunch at Mancini, trying to decide what to tell his elder sister.

He still hadn't worked it out, but he felt a rush of affection for Sarah as she picked her way across the patio in her dark, elegant suit. She had no doubt left a full in tray to come and meet him, and he felt reassured by the simple fact that she was here.

"You're buying," she said, sitting down across from him and snapping the white linen napkin across her knees. "I had to basically lie to get away without telling Tommy who I was meeting. He's probably phoning Mom right now to discuss the possibility of me having an affair." She sipped the water Kevin had poured in anticipation, and smirked at him.

"What disastrous boy scenario have you involved yourself in that meant I had to skip out of finance meeting prep? Do you literally have some poor guy chained to a headboard somewhere? Did you accidentally bang one of the new intake at the firm a la Lawyer McDreamy?"

"No, Sarah!" Kevin's voice was crisp. "But thanks for the deluge of stereotypes about gay male sexuality."

"Then what is it?" Sarah asked, picking up the menu and flipping the pages. "Don't tell me that Justin has fallen off the wagon already?"

"_Sarah_!"

"Well, as much as I find Tommy's take on things obnoxious, you have to admit that we're all kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"It's not Justin."

"So, are you going to tell me what it is or are we playing twenty questions?" Sarah asked, still scanning through the menu.

"For God's sake, Sarah," Kevin snapped. "We both know that you're having the baby squid appetiser and affogato, so could you just focus on the conversation in hand?"

Sarah placed her menu on the table, cover closed. She looked at Kevin, face impassive.

"Yes?" The waiter appeared at the side of the table, notepad poised.

"Two baby squids," Kevin said.

"Of course," the waiter responded. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you," Kevin replied. The waiter retreated.

Sarah raised one eyebrow. "Kevin, you hate squid. You always say it reminds you of the erasers on the end of pencils."

"Whatever." He suddenly felt exhausted.

"And now you're channelling a sulky teenager. Did you invite me here as some special cosmic punishment for an act of meanness that I'm not aware of? Did you get tired of tormenting your secretary and decide that you needed to share the misery?"

"Kitty was raped."

The words hung in the air. Sarah sat completely still. Kevin was astounded that he could hear odd snatches of conversations from other tables over the buzzing in his ears.

"When?" Her tone was clinical.

"First year of college. Some guy Tommy knew from school. Brent Wallace."

"And you know this how?"

Kevin sighed. "It was a stupid, throwaway remark. I was telling Kitty about Brent going out with one of Tommy's ex-girlfriends, about whom he had nothing nice to say, and mentioned that boys with that overdeveloped sense of machismo often turn out to be trying to hide their gayness from themselves or the world."

"And?" Sarah's voice was brittle.

"She said that they had a 'bad date', in her first year at college, which left her having had sex with him after trying to fight him off so vigorously she ended up with bruises." Kevin trailed off miserably.

"She just blurted all of this out to you?"

Kevin felt his irritation rising. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Sarah sat forward in her chair and leaned her elbows on the table.

"Of course not. I'm sorry." She rubbed her right arm with her left hand, as if to warm herself up despite the heat of the lunchtime sun.

"I just feel a little bit hurt that she didn't come to me, her sister, who trained to be a rape counsellor in college and could have empathised with what she's going through. I mean, I have spoken to a whole bunch of other women about this and could have supported her from a position of knowing something about it."

She caught Kevin's frown.

"Not, of course, that you're not sympathetic. Oh, you know what I mean."

"Sarah, I understand exactly what you mean. It's like Kitty asking you for legal advice instead of me. But I don't think it's like you're imagining. Kitty didn't say she was raped; I did. She basically threw me out of her room as soon as the words were out of my mouth."

Kevin paused as the waiter appeared and placed their squid in front of them. They smiled their thanks.

Sarah's was gone from her face before the waiter had even turned back towards the door to the patio area. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I assumed that I was the last to know, and that she had told you and Mom, but she said she hadn't because it was just a 'bad date'. I said it was more than that, it was rape and she totally lost it." Kevin sighed. "I think she has this idea that she doesn't want to be a victim."

"Which is totally reasonable."

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "You don't mean that you agree with her diatribe yesterday about women talking responsibility for being raped?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Sarah sipped her water. "It's just that it's a hard thing to fully accept the notion that rapists aren't all balaclava-wearing, gun-toting strangers, but that they look like every other man and you can't tell who they are. No one wants to feel like they're vulnerable to assault by their friends or their colleagues or their family, even if it is the reality."

Kevin looked sick. "So what do we do? Should I speak to Kitty about it again."

Sarah sipped her water again, thinking. "I think that you need to play this by ear. Kitty's obviously functioning perfectly well, although it's hard to separate out her Republican ideology from her denial. It's not like she's in crisis, so there's no need for any kind of dramatic Walker intervention. I would just wait for an appropriate time and bring it up really carefully. Take the lead from her. You don't want to overwhelm her, but it's also important to acknowledge what happened between you guys."

Sarah's voice cracked and she wiped away a tear. Kevin grabbed her hand, and held onto it tight.

"It's so stupid," said Sarah. "Even though I know all the statistics and counselled so many women, it's still a shock for it to be my baby sister that we're talking about. And I'm really ashamed that my second emotion was petty jealousy because she discussed it with you before she discussed it with me."

Kevin patted her hand. "I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you." His face was scrunched up in concern. "Do you want me to phone Ojai and tell Tommy you need the afternoon off?"

"I'm fine." Sarah squared her shoulders. "Kitty is really strong and I have every faith in her capacity to deal with this."

She squeezed Kevin's hand.

"And yours. You really are a pretty terrific brother, you know?"

"Back atcha." He surveyed their untouched squid. "Affogato?"

"Damn straight."


	6. In which Kitty reads a book

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

******************************************

**Chapter Six**

_In which Kitty reads a book_

Justin leant against the Walkers' front door; completely exhausted after the quick five miles he had just run around the neighbourhood. He was out of water and really thirsty, but was enjoying the morning breeze that was taking the fury out of the already hot day too much to move immediately.

Kitty was sitting on a stool in the kitchen reading a book and eating Ben and Jerry's ice cream straight from the carton. She looked up when Justin came in, and watched as he crossed the floor to the fridge and took a bottle of water out of it.

"Still in your PJs, Kitty?" Justin leant on the cool steel of the fridge door and unscrewed the lid from his bottle of water.

"Shouldn't I be? It _is_ Saturday morning."

"I know, Ms Defensive." He grinned at her. "It's just that you're usually dressed and running errands by this time of day. Or watching C-SPAN and writing a column. Or heading off to organise charity events with some of your fellow Daughters of the Alamo."

Kitty laughed.

"Only as long as I'm Donna Culver-Krebs in this little fantasy of yours and not Sue-Ellen Ewing. I _did _have all these plans for today but I just felt kind of blah this morning and couldn't get going, and then I started reading this book that Sarah left here and I was so happy not to be thinking about politics for five minutes that I just went with it."

"Well that kind of devil-may-care Saturday morning attitude requires some pancakes and not just ice cream." Justin opened the pantry door and stepped inside, emerging with flour and baking powder.

"Can they be chocolate-chip?"

"Of course." Justin turned round and waved the chocolate chips at her.

Kitty smiled. She hadn't talked to Justin alone since the argument at dinner on his first night back from rehab and she hadn't realised how anxious that had made her until she felt the tension in her shoulders dissipate during their conversation.

"So what are you reading?" Justin asked, bending down to take a mixing bowl out of the baking cupboard.

Kitty felt a twinge of foreboding, as if the conversation were going imperceptibly awry. She hadn't felt ashamed of the book in her hands until the very moment Justin asked her to explain it.

"It's called 'Lucky', and it's an autobiographical book by the author Alice Sebold." The words were unwieldy cloth in her mouth.

"Didn't she write 'Lovely Bones'? That book about that girl who is murdered and narrates it from heaven? I think I saw her on Oprah repeats. Isn't she kind of young to be writing an autobiography?" Justin was cracking eggs into the bowl, and absorbed in following the recipe for pancakes in Nora's handwritten recipe book.

"Oprah, Justin? I wouldn't have had you down as a massive Oprah fan."

"I'm not, particularly, but it was always on at New Horizons. I remember the interview with Alice Sebold, because Oprah and she were both talking about being survivors of rape and it came up in group."

Justin had his back to Kitty, and spooned pancake batter onto a griddle. The smell of pancakes cooking permeated the kitchen and Kitty simultaneously felt very old and very young.

"It happened to me." She barely recognised the sound that croaked out of her mouth as her own voice.

"Kitty?" Justin had turned away from the griddle and was looking at her with confusion.

"Don't burn the pancake. Please don't burn the pancake." Kitty was almost begging, and Justin obediently flipped the pancake in the pan on to a plate and put it in front of her.

He sat down on the stool across from her.

"What happened, Kitty?"

She licked her lips. A tiny bit of her was telling herself to stop, to not say another word to Justin. The larger part of her was desperate to relieve the pressure that had been building somewhere in her chest since her conversation with Kevin.

"Not like to Alice Sebold. Probably not like to Oprah. It wasn't a stranger, and I didn't even know that's what it was. But Kevin's right. It was." Kitty was staring at her pancake, avoiding eye contact with Justin. "Kevin said what Brent Wallace did was…" Kitty tailed off.

"Rape?" Justin said, firmly. Kitty looked up. She was steeling herself for shock, or pity, or anger. Instead, Justin wore an expression that she could only describe as knowing.

"Yeah." She sat quietly, listening to the ticking of the kitchen clock. "I don't know what to do."

"Do?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. I mean, do I join a support group? Or find a therapist? Do I have to tell the rest of the family? So far it's only you, me and Kevin that knows. What is Mom going to say? And Sarah? She's going to be so mad that I didn't talk about this with her when she's the family expert on all of this. I need a plan of action" Kitty's voice was thick with agitation.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, or tell anyone you don't want to tell. What do _you_ want to do, Kitty?" Justin's voice was calm, his eyes locked on her face.

"I don't know. It's a new thing to me." Kitty paused, trying to find the right words. "I feel like I can't trust my own judgment. I mean, first of all I went off with Brent and he hurt me. Granted, it was years and years ago but who is to say I won't make the same mistake again? Secondly, I didn't even know that he had raped me." Kitty's voice wavered. "Thirdly, I shouted at Kevin when he tried to discuss it with me and, fourthly, I didn't event want him to touch me. My own brother."

Kitty was grateful that Justin showed no inclination to reach for her hand. As guilty as she felt about her instinctive recoil from Kevin's touch, she did feel as if the margins around her personal space had shifted outwards in the past few days.

"Kit, I'm no expert in this. The only things I know are from sitting in group at New Horizons and hearing other people talk about it."

Kitty nodded.

"The first and most important thing is that you did nothing wrong and the only person who is responsible for raping you is Brent. I get that it's scary to realise that it's not something you can control, but it's truly not your fault. It also seems like it's important to use the right language. The only person who should be ashamed by rape is the rapist." Kitty was crying, silently; tears falling down her cheeks even as she concentrated hard on what Justin was saying.

"What I have picked up though, is that your reactions are completely normal. Loads of women don't characterise what happens to them as rape even though it totally is. All the women in group found it really painful to talk about, and I'm sure Kevin is worried about you rather than being mad at you." Justin picked at the edge of Kitty's pancake, and she smiled wanly at him. He smiled back, and then frowned a little.

"Also, and this one I know from fucking it up, that lots of rape survivors don't like being touched by men, especially when things are new or raw from talking about it."

Kitty took a shaky breath. "Well, this is certainly both new and raw. I think I need some time to process this and make some decisions about where I want to go with this. I mean, it's not like it's been a problem for me until Kevin drew my attention to it, although it's been good to get things off my chest. Now just thinking about it makes me feel completely exhausted."

"I know what you mean. If I ever spent a group session talking about Iraq I would leave feeling like I'd just run a hard 10k."

Kitty looked chastened.

"Justin, I'm so sorry for all those awful things I said about the women in your group. I'm also sorry for undervaluing in my own mind the huge effort that it must have involved for you to get clean and deal with all the stuff that went on in Iraq."

Justin smiled at her. "Kit, it's OK. I used to sneer at soldiers who talked about their PTSD, because I didn't want to admit that that was my reality. It's really, really hard to be vulnerable."

"You are such a great brother, Justin." Kitty's eyes filled again, but she was smiling.

"I'm a stinky brother, that's for damn sure. Are you ok for me to go take a quick shower?"

Kitty's smile got bigger. "Yes, definitely. I'm so glad we had this conversation, but I need some space to process. Are you ok?"

Justin raised his eyebrows. "Of course. I obviously wish that you hadn't been raped and it goes without saying that I'm sorry someone hurt you. On the other hand, and I hope this doesn't sound like too much therapy jargon, I'm really glad that you can own it and deal with it, and that you talked about it with me."

He walked out of the kitchen and took the Walker stairs two at a time in pursuit of his shower.


	7. In which Kevin makes tea

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

******************************************

**Chapter seven**

_In which Kevin makes tea_

Kevin carried his mug of tea back to his desk and set it down on a coaster. He scrolled through the brief he was writing on his laptop, and tried to regather his thoughts. With one thing and another he had a huge amount of work to clear over the weekend and although it was a little bit pathetic to be working late on a Friday night he was glad of the opportunity to catch up. Kevin's life plan included being made partner before too many more years had passed, and he knew that hours of hard work were the only way that could be achieved.

There was a knock at the door, which broke his concentration. Kevin looked at the clock and decided that it must be his neighbour Andrew, who liked to go to the bar straight after work on a Friday and invariably left his keys in a cab a couple of times a year. He grabbed Andrew's spare key from the drawer in the table by the door and looked through the peep-hole.

Kitty was standing in the hall, clutching her phone in one hand. He opened the door.

"Kitty," he started, but she cut him off.

"Kevin, I'm so sorry." She was still standing in the hall, hair and coat damp from the light rain that was falling outside. "You were right and I was wrong, and I said a couple of awful things and I would never want you to think that I don't love you with all my heart. You're my little brother."

Kevin smiled; a face-splitting grin. "Get in here, Kitty."

She stepped over the threshold and into Kevin's apartment.

"Do you want tea and a towel," he asked, waving at the drips Kitty was making on the parquet floor. "I have a cup already."

"Tea would be nice." Kitty slipped off her jacket and hung it on the coatstand and then sat down on the sofa and pulled Kevin's Liza cushion onto her lap, like a protective shield.

Kevin came back from the kitchen with her mug of tea and snagged his own from the desk. Kitty balanced the mug on Liza's face and wrapped her fingers around the hot ceramic.

"So, how are you doing?" Kevin sounded tentative.

"Oh, good. Busy. We need to start thinking about what we're doing for Mom's 60th birthday; I must phone Sara to see if she'll co-ordinate it all with me. Poor Mom, she never gets a party like the ones she organises for all of us. The food at the things we host for her is always a particular let down so this time I was thinking we need to find a better caterer."

"Not exactly what I meant, Kit."

"Oh, that." She looked at Kevin's fireplace, festooned with family photographs in frames. "I thought a lot about what you said, and I think you're right." She paused. "I think what Brent did was rape."

Kevin shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Kitty shot him a look.

"Buddy, if you think that word is hard to hear then trust me that it's even harder to say."

"Kitty, I'm really sorry. I know this isn't about me, it's just that I feel cosmically ill-equipped to say anything helpful."

"I'm not looking for you to fix me, Kevin. I'm still exactly the same person. Strangely, I ended up talking about it with Justin."

"Justin?"

"Yeah, I guess his experiences in Iraq give him a lot of insight into other kinds of…, " Kitty groped for the right word. "Things. He's a lot different than he was. He was really unemotional about the whole thing; I suppose that once you've overcome drug addiction and PTSD from seeing your friends killed in action that there isn't too much that phases you."

"He's maybe taking his lead from you. You seemed more pissed off by me suggesting that it _was _rape, than you felt anything at all about the experience itself."

"I think I was. I'm not really sure what to think or feel." Kitty looked at the fireplace again. "I mean, looking back I think that it did affect me in lots of different ways. I think it made me different than what I would have been. And right now, when it's at the forefront of my mind I feel bad; I feel like a stranger in my own skin, and like everything is subtly wrong. But I'm also struggling to organise my thoughts and work out what I really think. And for that reason, I'm going to start seeing a therapist."

"I'm sorry that you're feeling so bad, but I think it's an excellent idea to see someone. Do you want the name of my therapist?" Kevin reached for the case on the coffee table that he kept business cards in. "I really liked her, although I don't know if you want to see a specialist?"

Kitty looked at Kevin, and then took the card that he was offering her. "You saw a therapist? When? Why?"

Kevin sighed. "Sometimes it's not easy being a Walker."

Kitty raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Oh come on, Kitty!" Kevin was exasperated. "We're not the Waltons. You had that huge estrangement from Mom over Justin joining up, Dad and I never got along and after I came out it became clear that we never would, everyone is always in to everyone's business in a way that just becomes ridiculously suffocating sometimes, I'm gay in a world that doesn't really like that kind of thing, and my brother's future child might really be mine."

Kitty looked at Kevin, eyes shining. "Yeah. I think we're basically a happy family but that doesn't mean that it isn't hard work." She sipped her tea. "Kevin, something else I've been thinking about this past couple of days is how I just brushed off your concerns about me going to work for Senator McAllister."

Kevin sighed. "I really don't want to get into that again."

"We don't agree on the whole issue of how important his position is on gay marriage to whether or not he's a good man, but I realise how easy that is for me to say when it doesn't affect me." She gestured with both hands, to emphasise her point. "I wasn't on your side, and you're almost always on mine. It struck me even when I was yelling at you to get out of my room how you had immediately believed me. You didn't ask me if I was so wasted I gave him the wrong impression, or what I was wearing, or…"

"Kitty, you know that nothing you said, or wore, or did would give him the right to do anything without your willing participation?" Kevin looked concerned.

"Well, that's the theory, Kevin, but plenty of people don't really believe that."

"I'm not one of them, Kit. I hope no one in our family would ever blame you for what happened when clearly it is solely Brent fucking Wallace's responsibility, and no one else's." Kevin really wanted to reach for her hand, but the way she was sitting and the positioning of Liza suggested that Kitty did not want him to. She looked far away, and he didn't really want to think too hard about what was going through her mind.

Kitty blinked. "Speaking of the family, I'm not going to tell Tommy, Sarah, or Mom yet. Do you think that's OK? I just need some more time to process all of this."

Kevin looked guilty. "Actually, Sarah already knows."

"Fuck, Kevin." Kitty looked shaken. "I know you have your reputation as the family gossip maven to protect, but this is ridiculous. I trusted you not to blab something I didn't even want to discuss with you."

"It wasn't like that, Kitty." Kevin thought how ironic it was that he had said that same thing to Sarah when reassuring her that Kitty wasn't deliberately freezing her out. "You completely freaked out and I had no idea what to do. Sarah knows about this stuff, and I needed her expert advice."

"What did she say?" Kitty did not sound mollified by Kevin's explanation.

"She was obviously upset that you had been hurt, but she said that you were strong and she had every faith in your ability to deal with this."

Kitty smiled, tears in her eyes. "That's probably the nicest thing she's ever said about me. God knows, we disagree about almost everything else."

"You'll always have your shared irritation with Mom. And now Holly."

"True." Kitty stretched. "Kevin, thanks for the tea and the talk, but it's late and I need to get back to Mom's." She picked up her phone and keys from the coffee table. "Do you think it's really terrible that I haven't told her yet?"

"I think who you tell is up to you, but I do think that you're maybe avoiding some painful and necessary feelings by not telling her."

Kitty looked at her brother. "How so?"

"Well, she's going to be so upset that her baby was hurt, just like Sarah and I were about you. Sometimes, if we don't want to feel that pain ourselves, it can be hard to see people feeling it for us." Kevin was quiet for a second. "I told Scotty about Dad's reaction to finding out I was gay. His own parents are total Leviticus-loving homophobes, so I was really surprised when my experience actually made him cry. After meeting you all he clearly thinks you're insane, but he sees Dad's reaction as somehow marginalising me within the family."

Kitty considered. "I think that's fair. I think that all of Mom's acceptance probably didn't compensate for Dad's clear and evident disappointment."

"No, it didn't."

"How is it that _Anna Karenina _starts? 'Happy families are all alike, and every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way'?" Kitty left the thought hanging.

Kevin shook his head. "I think you were right earlier. We _are_ a basically happy family, but sometimes the people you are born to and brought up with can't give you everything you need."

Kevin stood up when Kitty did and walked her over to the door.

"Thanks, Kevin. This whole thing is awful but I'm glad you said what you did. I'm glad you didn't let me sweep this under the carpet like I've been doing my whole life."

"You'll do fine, Kit. I'm glad you came over tonight."

She sketched a wave and walked through the door Kevin was holding open for her. He watched her walk down the corridor to the elevators, and then went back to his desk. He still had a brief to finish.


	8. In which the lamb is overcooked

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

******************************************

**Chapter eight**

_In which the lamb is overcooked _

"Kitty? _Kitty?_"

Kitty realised belatedly that her mother had been calling her name for some time.

"Mom, I'm in here."

Nora Walker appeared in the doorway to the sitting room in her gardening clothes, carrying a basket of red dahlias from the garden in one hand and a pair of secateurs in the other hand.

Kitty looked up from Newsweek, where she had been trying to determine how an article about Senator McAllister's sharp tailoring would play in the heartland.

"What's up, Mom?"

Nora pulled off her gardening hat and blew her bangs out of her eyes. "I was just wondering if you thought that we had enough dahlias here for the centrepiece this evening? The lamb is in the oven, so I just need to get changed and then finish up some of the vegetables."

"The dahlias look beautiful, Mom. In any case, this is only a little informal family dinner and I don't want you to go to too much trouble."

Nora set the trug and gardening things down on the sideboard. "You still haven't really explained what this dinner is for. Or why you only wanted it to be the six of us. Of course, Julia is probably tired from being pregnant and Joe and Paige like some time alone, so probably no one _minds, _it's just I wasn't really sure how to explain to Tommy and Sarah what it's all about."

"Nothing, really. I just thought that the party for your 60th birthday last week didn't entirely go to plan and that it might be nice to get everyone together for a more relaxed evening." Kitty bit her lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Kitty, is everything OK?" Nora looked concerned.

"Of course, Mom, why do you ask?"

"You've just not been quite yourself for the past few weeks. I know that leaving the TV show and joining Senator McAllister's staff hasn't been easy, and that things around here have been more than usually _interesting _recently, but is there anything else wrong?"

Kitty hesitated. "There was something that I was going to talk to everyone around at dinner tonight, but I can tell you now, if you want. I don't want you to freak out though."

"Kitty, what is it?" Nora sat down heavily on the sofa.

"I'm serious about the not freaking out part. I'm really OK."

"Kitty, will you just tell me whatever it is." Nora scanned Kitty's face, anxiously.

Kitty took a deep, steadying breath. "When I was in first year of college I came home for Homecoming. I bumped into a few people from high school at some event and had a few beers with them. We were all underage so we ended up in someone's basement." She sighed. "The details aren't really important, but this asshole from the high school raped me."

Nora gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth. Kitty didn't look up, her eyes were fixed on her copy of Newsweek. A part of her noticed that the edges of the pages were curling up.

"It's OK, Mom. It doesn't sound OK, but it is. I didn't get pregnant, or STDs. I didn't end up with an eating disorder or a coke habit. It upset me, but I think I filed it away as a miserable sexual experience until a few weeks ago. Then, for reasons which are way too long and boring to go into, Kevin mentioned the name of the rapist and the whole thing just came back to me. I wouldn't even have called it 'rape' without Kevin insisting."

"Oh, _Kitty_." Nora's eyes were dry, but her voice was thick with tears.

"I've been seeing a therapist for the past few weeks, who is constantly telling me that I'm minimising this, but…." Kitty found herself unable to continue.

From somewhere so deep within her she had never consciously known it was there, Kitty howled like her heart was breaking. Nora moved besides her and wrapped her in her arms, but Kitty was so grief-stricken that even that contact was not enough and she crawled into her mother's lap like a child. Nora rocked her back and forward; Kitty's sobs came so intensely that she was gasping for breath for breath. Tears dripped off her chin and on to the purple linen dress she had put on for the family dinner.

"It's OK, Kitty. You're safe now." Nora repeated over and over, rubbing Kitty's back.

* * *

"Do you know if that guy still lives around here?" Tommy said.

"Brent Wallace?" said Kevin, looking anxiously from the kitchen towards the sitting room. "No, I have no clue. Why?"

"Why do you think?" said Tommy, frowning and picking at the edges of the label on his bottle of beer.

"We can't hurt him," Justin said. "Jesus, Tommy!"

"He fucking raped our sister," said Tommy. "If you don't think that warrants a bit of a smacking around then you are out of your mind."

Justin gave Tommy a long, hard look. "I don't care if he lives or dies. What I do care about is Kitty, and the girls in my group said that if they ever told a boyfriend or guy friend about being raped then the first thing he wanted to do was hand the guy's ass to him."

"And what's wrong with that?" said Tommy.

"What's wrong with showing Kitty – currently sobbing in Mom's arms because some guy was violent to her – that her brothers are also violent pricks who solve their problems with their fists?" Justin's question hung in the air.

Tommy was silent.

"Also," said Kevin, "and not to channel Sarah, but isn't that acting like the kinds of neanderthals who think that their sisters are their property, whose honour must be avenged at any cost?" He took a long swig from the beer in his hand.

Tommy slouched against the breakfast bar. "You're right, you both are. I'm just so fucking angry that I didn't call Brent Wallace out before he hurt Kitty. I knew he treated girls like shit."

Kevin put his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Firstly, you've had five minutes to assimilate the whole 'Kitty was raped' thing, and Justin and I have had a couple of weeks. Cut yourself some slack. Secondly, you really can't blame yourself for what you did or didn't do as an unenlightened sophomore."

"Who was an unenlightened sophomore? What is going on tonight?" Sarah said, appearing suddenly through the patio door. "I've been ringing the doorbell for five minutes."

**

* * *

**

Kitty couldn't work out how long she had been clinging to Nora. She felt exhausted, and yet somehow clean as though all of the tears that had poured down her face had washed away some of the hurt and the pain that she had felt. She pulled away from Nora, and took the tissue her mother was offering and blew her nose.

"Honey, are you OK?" Nora's voice was concerned.

"I'm so sorry, Mom. I don't know where that came from. I didn't even realise I was that upset about it." Kitty blew her nose again.

"You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart." Nora glanced towards the kitchen. "Would you like me to get everyone to leave?" she asked, stroking Kitty's hair back from her face.

"No, Mom. I think that I've probably put on enough of a performance this evening without creating yet more drama." Kitty stood up, and smoothed her dress down. "I'm just going to wash my face and fix my makeup and then I'll come join everyone."

She walked upstairs to the bathroom and poured makeup remover onto a cotton-wool ball. She surveyed her face: her eyes were red and swollen, and her skin was pale and blotchy. Kitty couldn't quite meet her own gaze in the mirror.


	9. In which everything is going to be OK

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 1X13: "Something Ida this way comes"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. This chapter contains a couple of details that might be hard for people to read. Please stay safe.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

**********************************

**Chapter nine**

_In which everything is kind of going to be OK _

By the time Kitty had finished carefully reapplying her makeup, her brothers and sister were all seated in the dining room and waiting for Nora to start carving the lamb. She felt, rather than saw, Sarah's sympathetic gaze on her as she slipped into the seat between Kevin and Justin.

Kevin reached across and squeezed her hand. Justin's head was bowed, as if he were praying, and she found herself wondering whether her earlier sobs and whimpers had reminded him of Iraq. He had talked to her once when – she realised long afterwards – he was high as a kite and couldn't stop the words from spilling out of him. He had spoken about the sounds of a military hospital at night and his own inability to meet the needs of the wounded, desperate men and women far from home and how he almost hated them sometimes for not being pacified by the drugs that were all he had to offer.

_We're all broken_, Kitty thought, and looked uncertainly at Tommy and Sarah who were poised symmetrically in perfect tension on the edges of their dining chairs. Tommy was fiddling with his wine glass, and staring at the swirling red liquid as if held the answers to the mysteries of the universe.

She broke the silence. "I'm sorry that you guys found out like this. I had planned to tell you myself, over dinner, but then my nutty interfered."

Kitty wondered what Tommy's face had looked like when he had been told, and who had had to do it. Of all her siblings he was the one who seemed most remote from her, and she was suddenly, irrationally afraid that he was the one who would blame her for this. She shivered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Kitty," said Kevin. "Of course it's up to you what you share with people. Don't even give it a second though." He raised his eyebrow at Sarah, but she studiously avoided meeting his gaze.

"Of course it is, Kitty," Nora echoed. She glanced sternly round the table, as if seeking objections.

Tommy looked up from his glass, and she saw with wonder that he had tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kitty. This is all my fault."

"_Your _fault?"

"How could this possibly be your fault?"

Kevin and Nora had spoken at the same time.

"I think I remember that Homecoming, and I'm pretty sure that I was supposed to come pick you up from somewhere and I totally lunched it out because I was with my buddies and you had to walk home and you broke a heel and ended the night in your stocking feet. I still remember the hellacious row I got from Dad." Tommy's voice cracked. "I'm so sorry, Kitty. If I hadn't been so fucking preoccupied with being too Joe Cool to go and pick up my sister..."

"Um, I think that was me, Tommy." Sarah's voice was dry. "And the only damage caused was to a black patent stiletto boot and a cheap pair of nylons. While Dad may have deplored the fact that I had to walk home alone, I'm sure he was glad that your thoughtlessness managed to kill one of what he called my 'hooker boots'."

Tommy slumped back in his seat in relief and swallowed a huge gulp of wine. Kevin grinned. "There was a certain _Pretty Woman _dimension to those boots, Sar."

She raised her wine glass. "Agreed. But who wouldn't want to be a prostitute if it meant hanging out in the Beverley Wilshire in Armani and Gucci with rich guys looking for love instead of wearing sticky pleather and waiting to be beaten or ra-." Sarah cut herself off. "I'm sorry, Kitty."

"Don't be." Kitty sounded completely assured. "All earlier-this-evening evidence to the contrary, I really am fine and am going to get even finer. My therapist," she smiled at Kevin, "is awesome and constantly telling me not to minimise this experience, but as bad as it was I'm confident that I'll make my peace with it. In the meantime, _please_ don't walk on eggshells around me."

"As weird as it is having you sound like an After School Special, Kitty, I'm really proud of you." Kevin raised his glass to her. "To Kitty, and everything being OK".

"To being OK," chorused the rest of the family.

"Thank you," said Kitty, feeling indescribably fond her family and not all of it being attributable to the buzz she was getting from the Merlot that Nora had served with dinner. "And," she said, turning to Kevin, "if you want to hear after school special then you should talk to Justin. He got wise beyond his years in New Horizons."

"It wasn't…" Justin stopped mid-sentence, his face unreadable. Pushing back his chair abruptly, he got up from the table and stalked into the kitchen. The rest of the family exchanged confused looks.

"Let me," said Kitty, as Nora started to get up from her seat.

Justin was sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at the copy of _Lucky _that had precipitated his and Kitty's conversation. She pulled out the stool next to him and sat down. "What's going on, Justin?"

"I can't tell you." Justin sounded muffled. "I just need a couple of minutes to clear my head and then I'll come back to the table."

"Clear your head of what?" Kitty looked with confusion and exasperation at her youngest brother.

Justin groaned. "Kitty, you're just the last person that I should be talking to about this. Just let it alone, ok?"

Kitty smoothed the skirt of her dress. "Justin, you can tell me anything. I'm really doing fine, in no part thanks to you and the excellent advice you gave me the other day."

"Excellent advice?" Justin's incredulity verged on mockery. "Kitty, I just told you the same tired crap that Dr. Holden told all of the girls in group. All that Pollyanna bullshit about healing and learning and growing. It's really not fucking like that at all."

"What do you mean?" Kitty felt a wave of irritation. "How do you know what it's like?"

"In Iraq.." Justin cut himself off.

"In Iraq, what?" Kitty studied Justin's profile, his head bent.

He sighed. "I was with a unit doing a hearts and minds patrol in Fallujah. It wasn't during actual combat, and we were supposed to be maintaining the curfew. I was there to deal with any emergent civilian medical issues."

He looked up, eyes darkened by his memories. Kitty nodded.

"There was this tiny kid standing outside one of the houses. He had a long cut on his leg, which just needed butterfly strips, so I took his hand and brought him inside with a couple of the unit. His Mom went completely fucking berserk, and grabbed him away from me. She was screaming at us and pushing him behind her as though she was afraid we were going to hurt him. By the time the translator double-timed it to us she was in a total frenzy."

Justin met Kitty's eyes, and she realised with a jolt that he was crying. "She had a daughter there too, who looked about the same age as Paige. It was creepy as fuck but she didn't make a single sound, even when her Mom kicked off. She just sat there, looking straight ahead, without moving a muscle. Didn't even look at us."

Justin was sobbing properly now, and Kitty could only just make out the words. "The translator appeared and she looked at us like we were dipshits and hustled us out of the house. It took her an hour to calm the woman down, and when she came outside she told us that the woman and her daughter had been raped by a gang of soldiers. The little boy's laceration was caused by them throwing him in the wardrobe when the soldiers burst through the door. Kitty, I don't even know if they were ours or not."

Justin's tears had slowed down, and he blew his nose on the tissue Kitty handed him. _We probably need to buy more of these_, Kitty thought, _what with all the crying around here. _

"The very, very worst part is, Kit, that the translator put herself between us and the road when she was telling us all of this." Kitty raised her eyebrow in silent query.

"Translators are supposed to make sure that soldiers are between them and the greatest danger. Where we were standing, theoretically, there was a greater risk of getting sniped from the road than the woman's house. I didn't realise how off it was until afterwards, and then the penny dropped: the translator didn't know if we'd raped the woman and her little girl or, if it wasn't us, whether we thought that was just one of the spoils of war. She was scared that we might hurt her, even though she was wearing the same uniform as us."

Justin didn't tell Kitty about the research he had done afterwards; how he had discovered that women in his army, in _all _armies, were raped and molested by their own comrades in arms.

"Justin, I wasn't gang raped by a bunch of soldiers in the middle of a warzone. I didn't see my child get hurt." Kitty stroked Justin's arm, like you would pet a cat. Her nerves were jangling after the story he had just told and that was about as much physical contact as she could bear.

"I know, Kit." Justin looked nauseated. "I try to think about the details as little as humanly possible, but I know that it wasn't the same for you. It's just that it wasn't different enough and you seem to think a few sessions of therapy will make everything A-OK."

"I really don't, Justin." He recognised that tone of voice from _Red, White & Blue. _It meant that Kitty was about to smack him down. "This past few weeks have been awful. I feel like I'm drowning in memories and horrible sensations. Every time my own brothers touch me I feel like I'm going to be sick. I spent a good half hour sobbing on Mom's shoulder today. I _know _that this isn't all going to vanish in a puff of smoke, but I need to believe that I'm going to prevail. And, Justin, until _you've _washed your rapist's come out of your hair, maybe you can spare me on what a miserable experience it is."

"That's really fucking unfair, Kitty!"

"Is it?" Kitty suddenly looked unsure of herself. It had been nice to feel the familiar rush of adrenaline that came from creating a tart riposte, but that was ebbing away now in the face of Justin's pained expression. "Justin, did you ever talk about any of this in group?"

"No, it wasn't until I was talking to you the other day that it all came back." Justin looked down at the counter. "Kitty, I'm sorry I just gave you all those pat answers when you told me about Brent Wallace. I could just feel myself shutting down and it wasn't until I was howling in the shower that I realised what was going on."

"Is it not supposed to be _me _sobbing in the shower? I've seen all those terrible Lifetime rape movies." Kitty was rewarded by a smile from Justin. She looked at him soberly. "Firstly, your 'pat answers' were actually incredibly helpful and just what I needed to hear. Dr. Holden is clearly no dummy. Secondly, because she is no dummy, I really think you should talk about this with her in your next session. That experience in Fallujah sounds incredibly traumatic."

"Yeah, I think I will."

The two of them sat together in the kitchen in what, Kitty realised, was the first moment of comfortable silence she had shared with a member of her family since Justin came home.

Justin held out his hand to her. Kitty looked at it in confusion. "Shake? As you're not quite in the hugging place right now?"

Kitty smiled and wrapped her arms around Justin. They sat together for a minute, and although Kitty's skin was prickling there was something so reassuring about the familiar smell of her baby brother. He spoke into her hair, so quietly that she nearly missed it. "Kitty, I'm really sorry."

She knew he meant for everything. "Yeah," she said. "Me too."


	10. Epilogue: In which everyone is different

**Spoilers:** This story contains spoilers through 2X39: "Prior Commitments"

**Warning:** This story contains reference to sexual abuse and rape, which may be triggering. There aren't any explicit details, but please stay safe when reading this fic.

This fic also contains bad language, so please don't read if that's not your cup of tea.

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**Epilogue**

_In which everyone is a little bit different _

Julia looked surprised as her husband stopped besides the volunteers collecting for a women's shelter. It wasn't that Tommy was cheap, exactly, just that she had heard him talk dismissively about philanthropy as a rich man's pursuit. Getting him to agree to write checks to charities at Christmas was hard enough, without getting him to contribute to things on the spur of the moment.

She was even more surprised when he pulled out a hundred dollar bill and pushed it into the collection can. The young woman holding it smiled in appreciation, and Tommy smiled back. His smiled faded when he saw another woman standing over by an information table, talking to one of the shelter employees. She looked scared in a way he hadn't seen since that afternoon in the basement with Clare. He sent up a silent prayer that she would be ok.

Julia glanced up at him as they walked slowly away, pushing a sleeping Elizabeth. "Not like you to splash the Benjamins."

"Benjamins, Julia? Have you been watching _MTV Cribs _again?" He smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

* * *

As Kevin slid his key in the lock he could hear the theme tune to _The O.C. _He grinned to himself as he opened the door because who would ever have imagined that he would have married a man who loved trash teen television?

He dropped his briefcase on the floor in the hall, and loosened the grey silk tie that Scotty had picked out that morning. He raised his eyebrow at his husband. "Do I not even get a welcome home kiss?"

Scotty smiled lasciviously and crossed the hall in three short strides, sticking his tongue in Kevin's mouth. Kevin groaned slightly, the tension from his day ebbing away as another kind of tension washed over him.

Kevin froze at the noises coming from the TV. He looked at Scotty. "What _is _that?"

Scotty glanced at the screen. "Oh, well, the protagonist's even more troubled older brother comes to visit and, while the protagonist is otherwise occupied with a refugee from Bob Jones University, he tries to force himself on the protagonist's girl."

Kevin disentangled himself from Scotty. "Well, if watching rape gets you off." He turned on his heel and stomped off to the bedroom.

Scotty paused the TV show and followed Kevin into the bedroom. Kevin was lying stretched out on the bed, one arm over his eyes. Scotty watched his husband for a moment and then climbed carefully on to the bed and lay down next to him.

"I'm sorry," Kevin said, simply. "I forgot for a moment that you didn't know about Kitty."

* * *

Cooper ran across the sitting room floor and launched himself at Justin, who only just caught him before he crashed into the easel that contained his nephew's latest artistic creation.

"Nice to see you too, little guy." Justin smiled at his nephew, before he realised that Cooper's shirt was covered in paint.

"It's washable, Justin," Sarah reassured him, as she threw her keys and cellphone into her bag and scooped up her portfolio folder. "Thanks so much for agreeing to look after Paige and Cooper; this meeting shouldn't take too long."

She glanced around her to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and frowned at the sight of her daughter, who was reading at the table.

"Paige, maybe Justin would like a hello hug?"

"No!" Justin all but shouted. Paige and Sarah both looked at him, surprised. "I mean, Paige doesn't have to hug or touch anyone she doesn't want to."

Paige looked between her mother and uncle and then shook her head and turned her attention back to her book.

Sarah smiled a bittersweet smile. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

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Well, that's the end.

Thanks to Plus de ma Vie for some very kind reviews.

This was my first fanfic ever, and my first B&S fanfic, so any constructive criticism gratefully received. Reading back, there are definitely some things I would change but it's nice to be at the end.

Thanks for reading.


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